
As I stared at the cover art to this movie, drinking in the big grin on Shaq’s huge face, I kind of felt like the 2004 version of Karl Malone. Here was Shaq, seemingly promising me the world. It’s as if he was saying, come on Adam, I’ve got a great movie for you to watch, and we can win it all. But I knew better. I knew what the Mailman didn’t. I knew that there was nothing but disappointment behind the cover to this evil little film. There was no glory, no banner, no ring- nothing. I figured I had two options. I could either not watch it and retain what dignity I had left as a man; as a human being. Or, I could piss on the entire state of Utah and be greedy. I was greedy. I watched it anyway. I thought I could pull a patented Malone move and pull the chair on Kazaam. But in the end, like Karl I am left humiliated, still ringless and feeling like a big fat moron.
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